


Thanks Again

by Hammocker



Series: I'll Feel For You [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bonding, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Gen, Pre-Slash, Self Confidence Issues, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout just wanted to say thanks. Why did that have to get so complicated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks Again

**Author's Note:**

> Reading the last fic in this series, "Over the Edge," is not necessarily vital to understanding this fic, but it is probably a good idea to do so if you want context.

Scout stared at the door of the camper van as if it was a mountain. A mountain that he had been so ready to climb without any gear or jutting stones, just his own mind and body. Yet standing in front of it, he could only gape at just how insurmountable it really seemed.

Raising his hand to rap on the door, Scout hesitated just before he swung. Maybe he could talk to Sniper tomorrow, he thought, lowering his hand. Maybe he could say something to Sniper just before the first battle. He shook his head. No, this had to be done now. He raised his arm again, and swung it towards the door, only to stop just before his hand made contact Maybe Sniper had thought nothing of pulling Scout up from the cliff. Maybe a thank you was not even necessary. No, he had to take care of this now or it would be an elephant in the room for the rest of his time at the Compound.

Scout growled in frustration and hit his head against the door. Why was he so afraid of just knocking on a damn door? He had done it a thousand times before, why could he not do it now? Scout rubbed at his forehead, but froze as he realized what he had just done.

The door opened in front of him, and Scout slowly looked up to see Sniper smiling down at him. He was no longer wearing his usual hat and sunglasses, and his normal uniform had been replaced by loose slacks and a worn undershirt. Scout barely recognized him for a split second. Had the marksman always been that tall? Scout could have sworn that he was no taller than Soldier, and Scout had never had to look up too far at Soldier just to see his face. 

“'ello.” Sniper greeted him. “Ye've been standin' out 'ere quite a while. 'bout time ye tried to get my attention.”

Scout forced himself to look Sniper in the eye before blurting out, “How did ya...?”

“Just 'cause you can't see me don't mean I can't see you.” Sniper said with a half-smile, glancing at the door's tinted window.

Scout hoped he was not flushing. “Oh. Yeah. That.”

“So-” Sniper leaned against the door frame as he spoke. “-what'd ye need?”

What did he need? Scout's mind had blanked, but his mouth moved on its own as he tried to recall. “Oh, I just- I, uh, y'see.” He was going to humiliate himself if his memory did not play ball and fast.

Sniper wore a straight face now, focusing on Scout and nodding as though he was receiving the most important information that he had ever heard.

A thank you, that was it! But he had to be polite about it.

“Uh, first thing's first, I never said hi.” He gave a pause. “Hi.”

Sniper nodded courteously, but his half-smile was back, “G'day.”

“So, uh-” Scout reflexively reached up to scratch at the back of his head, “I wanted to thank ya. Fuh earlia'.”

Sniper gave a long blink. “What d'ye mean?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Fuh pullin' me up from that cliff.” Scout clarified, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Oo-oh, yeah, yeah, I remembuh a bit of that.”

“A bit? Ya saved my life, man.”

Sniper shrugged, and glanced to the side. “Eh, it was nothin'; anyone coulda pulled you up from there.” he deflected.

“Well, yeah, but I don't know if they woulda.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow. “What? Ye don't trust yer own team?”

Scout brought his hands straight up in front of his chest. “No, no, no, I do, it's just, well, they're- I mean, I'm not that-” He heard himself babbling for a few minutes, trying to get the words out and failing over and over. Why did he always have to embarrass himself like this? Why could he not just talk right? He was about to bail out and run back to the barracks when Sniper finally broke in.

“Come inside.”

Scout stared up at Sniper for a few seconds too many. “Ya- ya mean it?” he asked.

“Ye may as well, now that yer 'ere. Sniper said, shrugging and turning to take a step farther into his van. “Y'drink black coffee?” he asked, standing in front of a hotplate.

“Uh, shua, shua, no prahblem.” he said. Normally, he would have at least put some cream in his coffee, but he could handle plain coffee fine.

Though Scout had seen that Sniper's expression was merely one of neutrality or even boredom, something was off. Sniper's expression seemed almost soft. There was a humor to his face that Scout could not quite explain. A lightheartedness that Scout would usually only notice during the occasional situation where Sniper threw himself into the thick of a battle. Still, a funny expression was no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Sniper handed Scout a full cup before taking his own mug and sitting down at the small booth positioned next to a window with its shades down. He slid in towards the window, and took a long sip before looking at Scout and asking, “Now, you were saying something, weren't yew?”

“I was-” Scout hesitated as he remembered what he had meant to say. “Nah, I don't think so.” he said quickly.

“Ye little liah.” Sniper accused, smiling as he crossed his arms and leaned back.

“No, really, it's nothing.” Scout insisted, seriously considering running for the door, “I mean, I don't wanna- You don't want to deal with my problems.

“Try me. I bet ye won't be disappointed.” Sniper invited before quickly adding, “And whateveh it is, Scout, I ain't gonna let it slip, and I ain't gonna make anything of it, yew 'ave my word.”

While his head still argued that talking about how he felt was a bad idea, Scout's heart was struck by the sincerity in Sniper's words. Swallowing thickly, he finally decided to come clean, “I was tryin' t'say that I'm not that much use to- I'm not-” He groaned through his teeth and shook his head. “Ah, y'wouldn't undastand Snipa. It ain't easy, always being the youngest, the smallest, the weakest. I- I came out t'do this, t'be a merc, 'cause I wanted to prove to my- to everyone that I'm not weak.”

“You think you're weak?” Sniper asked, raising his brow.

“Yeah.” Scout said, shrugging limply, “'cause I am.”

“And you didn't just start thinkin' that here, did you?” Sniper asked, frowning and now looking at the younger man with soft eyes.

Scout allowed his shoulders to go slack and he glared away from Sniper. “No. No, I didn't.” He winced before continuing, “I- My ma, well, she always gave me alotta attention. For as long as I rememba. We spent alotta time together, and I was fine with that, hell, I was really happy. But, well, some'a my brothas weren't as happy about that. Didn't really like that. Jealous fuckin' bastads.” Scout gritted his teeth, and rubbed his head at the memories, “When- when thea was no one else to beat on, they tunned t'me. Beat on me. Liked t'make funna me too, cuallin' me a runt, deadweight, a friggin' fairy.” He began to pace back and forth then, as far as he could in the confined space, scratching at the back of his head. “And- and it just, it hurt y'know? I didn't ask for any'a what I got, it was just always like that. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't fight alla them, I was just too small, and I shua as hell wasn't gonna snitch, so, I just- I ran. I always ran. Like a fuckin' wimp.”

When Scout finally looked back at Sniper, the expression on the taller man's face was something that he had never seen before. Anger, sorrow, regret, sympathy, all were present and being mixed to create something that Scout could not quite describe.

“Aw, Scout,” Sniper said, shaking his head, “I know how it is being yer age, I do, and how it is havin' big, bloody morons breathing down your neck.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “God, I know.”

“Why would you?” Scout asked.

Sniper frowned and looked away from Scout for a split second. “Ye do remembeh where I'm from, right?” he asked.

“'coase.” Scout replied with a nod, “Ya an Aussie, anyone could tell, listenin' t'ya.”

“Oh, yeah, I'm from Oz, but do I look anything like most of the people ye'd usually see comin' out from there?”

Scout's mind went immediately to Saxton Hale, and he suddenly realized what Sniper meant. “No, not really.” he conceded.

“No, I'm not.” Sniper took in a deep breath, “Growin' up there ain't easy if you're not a brute. Growin' up ain't easy in its own right, I know that for sure. I didn't have the brawn, but I had more of a brain than anyone there. Never could find friends. Would've had to let myself get throttled to get any. I didn't think it was worth the trouble.” He half-smiled and gave a snort of dry laughter, “And, you know, I was right. Morons like that aren't worth my time.”

“I, uh- I neva thought about that.” Scout admitted, sheepishly glancing away from Sniper.

“Sit next to me.” Sniper requested, gesturing to his right.

Scout only stared at Sniper for a moment. He saw no reason why they should have to be so close, and Sniper barely knew him anyway. Then again, here Sniper was inviting Scout into his own house, giving him coffee, and letting him talk about his feelings, all without asking for anything in return. The least Scout could do was comply with a simple request, so he slid in next to Sniper, placing his still full cup of coffee on the table.

“Look at me, now.” Sniper ordered, putting a hand on Scout's shoulder.

Immediately, Scout did as he was told, and found himself staring into gray, understanding eyes. He worried for a moment that he might lose himself in their gaze within seconds. 

“You are not weak, Scout, not by a long shot.” Sniper spoke in a low, almost rhythmic tone, “Yer young, ye've got a lot to learn, but I see you out there every day, giving it yer all, and I know that you're as strong as any of us. Don't let anyone tell you different, not your family, not anyone on the Compound, and not ever yourself. You deserve to be nice to yourself, so be nice to yourself. You won't regret it, I promise.”

Something deep inside of Scout was struck by Sniper's words. Something he hid whenever he was around the rest of the team. Something that he had only felt the last time that he had really been hurt, and his mother had been there for him. A sob shook Scout, and he looked away from Sniper as the tears started to flow.

“Aw, lad,” Sniper said as he put an arm around Scout and turned towards the boy to pull him closer, “Yer okay. It's okay. I'm right here. Ye can trust me. I understand.”

Scout hated himself for letting another man, his teammate no less, see him like this. Being exposed and vulnerable away from his mother had never been an option for Scout if he did not want to be beaten down. Yet here he was, crying like a child in front of Sniper. He could not help it, he knew. The relief of finally telling someone about how his brothers had treated him and how he felt about himself was just too much, and Sniper being so compassionate had pushed him over the edge. In a moment of emotion-induced boldness, Scout pressed his head against the left side of Sniper's chest. The position was awkward, but Sniper kept him in the same warm embrace nonetheless.

Once his sobs had died down, Scout pulled away from Sniper. He wiped the remaining fluid from his face, took a deep breath, and looked up at Sniper, whom still was watching him with as much understanding as ever.

“Thanks. Again.” Scout said shakily.

“It's nothing. God, I would have killed for someone to keep me comfort when I was younger.” Sniper sighed, “Breaks my heart seeing ye so upset.”

Scout frowned and averted his eyes from Sniper's, “Sahry ya didn't. Really.”

“No, no, don't ye worry about me now, lad.” Sniper said, “What's done is done.”

No words came to Scout then, only a sense of sympathy and regret for never even thinking that Sniper might have had problems of his own. The two sat where they were for longer than they probably should have, but Scout had already stopped caring about whether or not he would get enough sleep. They could have sat there for days on end and Scout would have been perfectly happy.

Unfortunately, all good things had to end sooner or later, and Scout generally preferred ending them himself over being torn away from them.

“Guess I should, uh, get back. Before it gets too- uh, well, I should just get going.” Scout said, standing up and gesturing toward the door.

“Prob'ly for the best.” Sniper said, “You should come back, though, sometime. If you just want to talk, or have some coffee, or anything my door's always open to you.” 

“Really?” Scout asked, immediately regretting his word choice, “I mean, thanks, uh, maybe I will.”

Sniper laughed outright then, but made no mention of Scout's slip. “Good seeing you.” he said, tilting his head downward subtly.

“Yeah. You too.” Scout said as he turned from Sniper and headed out the door. As he closed the entrance behind himself, Scout's expression morphed into a grin that was impossible to force away for the rest of the night.


End file.
